In a Church, with an Open Casket and a Full Audience --
In the midst of the Singing, as the Worshippers close their eyes, Raise their arms,
and Sway their Bodies to the music -- Belief Mounting with each line of the Chorus, Shiny with oil, his Palms annoint my
face, move down to my Dead Breasts, where he waits for the Pulsating to begin. "In the name of Jesus,"
to be the Glory of the Preacher's Power,
the Miracle
of his Laying on of Hands.
each new Command from
the Preacher --
"Surrender to the Spirit, let Him have His way."
He
orders and the Singers tremble.
His lips at mine, each word a breath from Him to me --
